


Swallow Me Up and Feel It (Cherry Bomb)

by dadsinc



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Feelings, Barebacking, I don't go here don't look at me, Kyungsoo draws manhwa, Lingerie, M/M, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 14:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadsinc/pseuds/dadsinc
Summary: This isn't for Kyungsoo; it is for Chanyeol.





	Swallow Me Up and Feel It (Cherry Bomb)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oneforyourfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/gifts).



> Title from NCT 127's "Cherry Bomb". 
> 
> Thank you Maddie, for reading through most of it <3
> 
> Rosa, happy birthday ;; <3

It's April, and a sudden downpour caught him by surprise on his way home from work. Home as in Kyungsoo's home; Kyungsoo's small, cramped, _tiny_ three-room apartment with a pitched roof that's not fit for Chanyeol and his height at all, but he makes himself fit, somehow, and he loves it. Loves the way he has to bend his knees to walk from one room to the next; loves the way it's too small for all Kyungsoo's stuff - it's really cluttered but never _messy_. It looks well lived in, it has personality and Chanyeol loves it. 

He's drenched to the bone when he steps into Kyungsoo's apartment, his hair, clothes are sticking to his body. Grabbing some newspaper from a stack of items for recycle, Chanyeol rips a couple of pages from an article about economy and stuffs them in his wet, white sneakers, leaves them in to absorb most of the moisture from the rain. While still in the small entranceway, Chanyeol also removes his socks, placing his bare foot on the wooden step, balancing as he pulls off its partner, too, curls them into a ball in his fist. His slippers are nowhere to be seen, so Chanyeol walks over the wooden floor barefoot. 

Chanyeol finds Kyungsoo where he _always_ finds Kyungsoo; curled up on his stool, bare feet tucked against the footrest. Kyungsoo's maroon hair, usually styled, pushed back when he's going out, meeting people, falls over his face now, looking damp. Also he has changed from the tank top and underwear he was wearing when Chanyeol saw him a couple of days ago - Kyungsoo not showering for more than four days, wearing the same clothes four days straight is not unheard of. He's wearing the softest looking pair of gray sweatpants, wide around his thighs, legs but narrowing considerably around his calves and ankles; skintight. His usual long-sleeved t-shirt is black, sleeves pushed up past his elbows. 

Kyungsoo is, as always, hunched over an easel. The curve of his back looks painful, and Chanyeol wishes, for the thousandth time probably, that he'd sit by a table, on a proper chair while he's drawing. Kyungsoo refuses to change. This is how he's drawing; this is how he always has drawn, he says whenever Chanyeol complains. It's a fight Chanyeol will never win. And still, Chanyeol's body can't not ache when he takes in the curve of Kyungsoo's spine, the tightness of his shoulders, how he's sitting so his knees are almost touching his chest. next to him is a small, brown table, cluttered with notebooks, rulers, pens, pens and more pens. There's also a mug of what Chanyeol assumes is coffee. Kyungsoo runs on coffee and protein bars in his drawing periods. 

"Hi," Chanyeol says gently, trying to keep his voice at a non-boisterous level, trying not to disturb Kyungsoo while he's working. The way Kyungsoo doesn't react means that he heard Chanyeol enter the apartment, means that Kyungsoo isn't drowning in his creative headspace. That is good, at least. 

Kyungsoo looks ethereal, Chanyeol thinks, bathing in the light from the roof window just above his head. It's late afternoon and the setting sun is giving Kyungsoo a yellow-orange-y outline that makes him look like a deity. He is a deity, though; Chanyeol's deity. 

Chanyeol flushes, steps closer. If Kyungsoo wouldn't want him there, he'd let him know, text him, tell him to go home when he entered, but he didn't so Chanyeol knows it's ok. 

Over Kyungsoo's narrow shoulders, Chanyeol can see what he's drawing, sees the lines and swirls of black pen and his stomach drops, heat curls low in his abdomen; his face hot. In front of Kyungsoo is a drawing of a woman, with round hips, a narrow waist, round, heavy breasts in underwear. Underwear of silk, lace, ribbons. Her upper torso is only sketched, weak lines and marks, but her panties; high-waisted are fully drawn, fully detailed. The lace curling around her thick thighs, her small waist like she's a gift. The fabric of her panties look so real, like if Chanyeol reaches out to touch the paper, he'd not feel its roughness, but instead the soft, enticing feeling of silk, paired with the slightly rougher feel of lace. 

Chanyeol swallows loudly.

"Is this for the manhwa?" he asks, throat dry. Kyungsoo nods once, not looking up from where his pen inks her navel, the outline of her bra. 

Kyungsoo draws manhwa full-time. Mostly just short stories that gets published in magazines, but in addition to that, he's now working on a manhwa, planned to have four volumes. Baby steps, Kyungsoo told him a couple of months ago when he explained the general idea to Chanyeol while in bed. 

It's a love story. A love story about two young women, discovering themselves, and their sexuality for the first time. It's supposed to be targeted towards women, Kyungsoo had said, even though his editor and the publishing company wants him to draw it with a male-friendly gaze in mind. Chanyeol isn't sure if he is, but knows Kyungsoo never backs down when it comes to his art. He lives, _breathes_ art and he would never compromise its voice. 

"This is Sujin," Kyungsoo says, gesticulating to the half-drawn woman as he's capping his pen, placing it on the table, then, turns around to face Chanyeol. Behind his dark rimmed glasses, Kyungsoo's eyes widen slightly as he takes in Chanyeol's appearance. A frown settles on his face. 

"Why are you wet?" Kyungsoo's hand touches the damp sleeve of Chanyeol's sweater, tugging at it, eyebrows furrowing as it starts dripping from the gentle pressure from Kyungsoo's fingers. 

"It's raining," Chanyeol says simply, shrugging when Kyungsoo asks why he didn't bring an umbrella. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at him, muttering something under his breath about useless boyfriends who'll get sick because they're fucking _dense_. 

The softness of Kyungsoo's eyes makes Chanyeol shudder bodily, face warm. Kyungsoo hums, fingers letting go of his sleeve only to fist in the front of Chanyeol's sweater, pulling the drenched fabric out, pulling Chanyeol closer, tugging him down to Kyungsoo's level so Kyungsoo can kiss him. 

Kyungsoo lets go of Chanyeol's shirt the second his mouth greets Chanyeol's, instead opting to curl his warm, damp hands around Chanyeol's neck, cupping his cheek, chasing the pulse underneath his jaw. In his chest, Chanyeol's heart beats harder just from Kyungsoo's butterfly touches. Kyungsoo's mouth is warm, insistent as he sucks on Chanyeol's bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth, running his tongue over the slight sting. He tastes bitter, like the coffee he has been drinking. He tastes like the peppermint candies he keeps in the nightstand drawer. He tastes like home. 

Two fingers hold Chanyeol's jaw as Kyungsoo pulls back slightly, eyes big, gentle as his gaze runs over Chanyeol's face once, twice. He blinks, leans back in to kiss him. A soft, easy peck. Kyungsoo starts speaking before he can pull fully away, lips fluttering against Chanyeol's. 

"You should go shower before you get the flu," Kyungsoo says softly, and despite the gentle, cotton feel of his words, it's not a question or a wish; it's a request. A command wrapped in layers of silk. 

"Yeah." 

 

\- 

 

Kyungsoo's shower is small, like the rest of the apartment; like Kyungsoo himself, but Chanyeol molds, makes himself fit. As the hot water runs down his body, washing away the grime and dirt of the day, Chanyeol's mind wanders to fingertips stained with ink, to coffee, to lace and silk. The hot lump of lead is still lodged somewhere in Chanyeol's stomach, has been embers only until now, flaring up, tongues of fire licking at his diaphragm.

His face burns hot as he grabs one of Kyungsoo's many shampoo bars from the shelf in the shower, rubbing the cream colored bar against his hair in quick, rushed movements. The scent of honey-toffee fills his senses and Chanyeol, briefly, feels soothed. As the shower is rinsed out of his hair, Chanyeol grabs a bottle filled with yellow, liquid soap. His fingers curl around the bottle's black label as he squirts a generous amount into his palm. It, too, smells like honey. Chanyeol's insides flutter.

Before he steps out of the shower he makes sure he's cleaned out properly in every way, makes sure that his hair is free of shampoo, that his body is free for any suds. All Kyungsoo's towels are fluffy, soft against his skin as he dries himself off quickly. When his body feels dry enough, he throws a small towel on top of his head, working it over his hair until it stops dripping. Then, he pauses. 

Chanyeol has a couple of days worth of clothes at Kyungsoo's apartment; two sets of pajamas in the closet in Kyungsoo's bathroom that he can wear. But Chanyeol's mind drifts to his messenger bag, and the small plastic bag in it, containing a secret, a gift. In the mirror, Chanyeol sees his cheeks flush scarlet again. Are they ever his natural color when he's at Kyungsoo's? 

He could always wait, later, use it later and wear a regular, two-piece pajamas today. It's Chanyeol's secret, Kyungsoo would never know. 

But this isn't for Kyungsoo. It's for Chanyeol. 

Heart pounding, body trembling, Chanyeol walks over the warm, tiled floor to the basin, where he had left his messenger bag. His hands tremble as he zips the forest green messenger bag open. None of the content in his bag is wet, luckily. His laptop, charger and books are all dry. The small plastic bag too. Discarding the messenger bag, he brings the bag with him, sits down on the toilet lid, lets the plastic bag rest on the countertop next to the toilet. 

Chanyeol breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, focusing on calming himself, trying to forget everything about the plastic bag and its content. At least for a short while. It's ok, he tells himself over and over. If he doesn't want to do it now, he can wait, do it later, or never if that's what he figures out. It's ok. 

"But I want to," Chanyeol murmurs, looking down on his hands, his thighs. He really, _really_ wants to do it. 

So he does. 

 

-

 

You can't tell, Chanyeol knows, because he checked himself out in the mirror several, several times before stepping out of the bathroom, joining Kyungsoo for dinner in his two-piece pajamas. And still he feels like Kyungsoo knows, that he can _tell_.

They eat in the kitchen, on the table by the window, watching the sun set through the floor-to-roof window. The comfortable silence is only broken occasionally by small chatter, or when Chanyeol's favorite song comes on the radio and he asks Kyungsoo to turn on the volume. As the darkness falls, Kyungsoo whips out berries and whipped cream for dessert, served neatly in clear crystal bowls. While Chanyeol hums along to Karma Police on the radio, talking about his roommate Sehun and his newest suitor, an older man who Chanyeol has forgotten the name of, but nevertheless a man who takes Sehun out on luxurious dates, filling him with the most expensive salmon and chocolate souffle, and returning him with hickies, wobbly legs and a come-filled mouth. 

Kyungsoo chokes on his berries, laughs, wipes tears from his eyes. 

Later, when the stars are all hung on the sky's dark canvas and Kyungsoo has spoon-fed Chanyeol the last of the whipped cream and berries, when they've finished the dishes, watched Kyungsoo's favorite sitcom, it's time for bed. 

Chanyeol finished brushing his teeth first, as Kyungsoo's editor called him with a question regarding his latest deadline, so Kyungsoo is still in the bathroom when Chanyeol enters the bedroom. It's slightly chilly because Kyungsoo keeps his window open during the day. Chanyeol closes it, pulls the curtains shut, but doesn't manage to shut out the moon, as Kyungsoo's curtains are thin, and almost see-through.

It would be a lie to say that Chanyeol had forgotten all about it during the dinner, but he had partially forgotten about it, and now, as they're about to go to bed, he's about to undress, it all comes back to him. Chanyeol turns to Kyungsoo's full-length mirror, watches himself in his teal two-piece pajamas. He looks ordinary. It looks like a regular night. 

He still doesn't have to. He can just go to sleep in his pajamas and everything will be as it always is. Chanyeol chuckles nervously at himself. It sounds like he's about to make a life-changing decision, but he's not. It's not that big, or anything. It's just _new_. It's the first time he'll expose himself like this and it feels strange, makes him nervous. 

Despite his nervousness, despite the trembling of his hands, Chanyeol unbuttons his pajamas shirt first, one button at the time, taking deep breaths. The material of the pajamas are whisper soft against his skin, as he pulls it off his body, folds it over the chair Kyungsoo has put out for Chanyeol's clothes. Looking away from the full-body mirror, Chanyeol peels of the pajama pants next, folding them too over the back of the chair. 

Then, a deep breath, forcing his intercostal muscles to expand his rib cage further, giving his lungs more space, a long exhale. Chanyeol's gaze flutters to the mirror, then, finally, taking in the sight of himself.

It's still him, looking back at him from the mirror; still the familiar reflection he has seen throughout the years, and yet, it's not. Chanyeol looks different, a good kind of different; a _beautiful_ kind of different.

Chanyeol is all tall, long limbs, knobbly knees, bare skin save for a pair of cerise, high-waist panties. There's beautiful, thin lace biting slightly into his slim thighs; soft, soft lace running up over his tummy, up, up to his waist, the part of Chanyeol's torso that's curves slightly in. The panties stop just where Chanyeol is smallest. The way the fabric hugs his hips, the way the see-through lace panels on the sides curves just _so_ makes it look like Chanyeol's got more hips than he could ever dream of. Turning his back to the mirror, looking over his shoulders, Chanyeol takes in the back of his panties. It's all lace, see-through, cerise lace enveloping his flat ass; the way it hugs, holds where his thighs meet the gentle slope of his ass gives him an illusion of a bigger curve; more ass. There's a ribbon, too, nestled in the lace, swirling upwards, making it look like a corset, Chanyeol thinks, especially how it ends in a tied bow on the very top of the panties, Chanyeol's skin peeking through the lines of the ribbon. 

As he turns to face the mirror again, his chest feels tight, his body jittery. He truly, looks beautiful. Chanyeol's tummy lurches, his breath trembles as he realizes just how much he likes this, how _hard_ he is. Too preoccupied with the panties; looking, taking in, _feeling_ , Chanyeol has blatantly ignored how heavy his cock is; how tight his panties feel against him, restraining him in the best way. It's only a matter of time, Chanyeol thinks, before he's leaking through the lace and silk. He should get on the bed so he can be the big, beautiful surprise. Chanyeol knows he should, but he finds himself unable to look away from his reflection; unable to look away from his glittery eyes, slightly open mouth, rosy lips, flushed cheeks, ears, chest. 

Chanyeol's skin pebbles, eyes widening, pulse racing as he sees, feels a pair of hands wrap gently around his middle, warm palms against his skin. Lips press between his shoulder blades, mouthing words against Chanyeol's skin that are barely audible.

"Beautiful." 

Heat fills Chanyeol's cheeks, blood pounding in his ears; his rib cage. For a second, a minute, an eternity, Chanyeol stands frozen in front of the mirror, frozen in Kyungsoo's grip. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He was going to be displayed on the bed like a treat, like an exquisite gift for Kyungsoo. Chanyeol would be rewarded, would be able to bask in Kyungsoo's attention; would be able to see how Kyungsoo looked like when he saw Chanyeol like this for the first time. 

His eyes are burning with tears. This was not how it was supposed to happen. Chanyeol failed. Chanyeol wants to run, wants to give up, wants to _hide_. 

Kyungsoo's lips move upwards, brushing against Chanyeol's skin as he whispers words Chanyeol cannot hear, but the tone is soft, honeyed - praises. His palms are still resting innocently just above the waistband of Chanyeol's panties, fingers splayed out on Chanyeol's stomach, fingertips gently flirting with the elastic fabric without pushing past them. 

"Did you pretty yourself up like this for me?" Kyungsoo asks, voice heavy against Chanyeol's skin. Chanyeol trembles in his hold, teeth sinking into his lips, unsure. But before Chanyeol manages to talk, Kyungsoo continues, petting Chanyeol's tummy soothingly. "No it's not for me, is it?" 

Panties, lace, silk, aren't Kyungsoo's thing, not Kyungsoo's kink. Kyungsoo has a shelf in his wardrobe filled with female underwear; bras, panties, bodices, corsets; all in different fabrics, cuts, padding. They're all for research. Chanyeol remember discovering them when they first started dating, flustered slamming the wardrobe shut, acting all weird until Kyungsoo managed to put two and two together and explained to him that he uses it as inspiration, as research, and that it doesn't do anything for him. 

It did something, a lot, for Chanyeol. 

"It's for you," Kyungsoo murmurs. "Of course it is for you." 

Chanyeol nods wordlessly, Kyungsoo's hands tighten around his waist. 

"Do you feel beautiful?" Kyungsoo asks, voice vibrating through Chanyeol's rib cage as Kyungsoo speaks against his spine. Even though Chanyeol can't see Kyungsoo's face, his words make him flush high in his cheeks, make him look down from the mirror, unable to look at himself and hear Kyungsoo's probing words. Kyungsoo's hands travel higher on his body, pads of his fingers drawing small patterns on his chest as he travels up, up, traces a nipple as a shudder runs through Chanyeol's body. 

"Chanyeol." 

Again, Chanyeol nods, not trusting himself, his voice. Nods insistently. Behind him, forehead against his shoulder blade, lips nipping at the skin over a vertebrae, Kyungsoo hums. "Your words, Chanyeol, do use them." 

A soft sob leaves Chanyeol's mouth before he manages to think. The sound makes him look up, back at himself, stomach churning with arousal when he's faced with himself and the blatant arousal in his features. 

"Yes," Chanyeol whispers, voice raspy, trembling. Kyungsoo's small fingers stops their treatment of Chanyeol's nipples, running back down over Chanyeol's stomach. 

"Good," Kyungsoo says tenderly, and Chanyeol watches, heart pounding, as he watches, feels, Kyungsoo's left hand slip past the waistband of his lace panties. Unconsciously, Chanyeol sucks his tummy in, gasping at the sparks, flames that follows Kyungsoo's touch down Chanyeol's lower torso. Changing his grip, Kyungsoo lets his nails trail through the course hair nestled just above his cock. 

"Chanyeol," Kyungsoo says, hand pausing. Kyungsoo's chin is pressing against his back, nose, too. "Chanyeol, can I touch you?" 

Chanyeol nods.

Another sob escapes Chanyeol's mouth when Kyungsoo cups his cock, pressing his palm of his hands against the head of Chanyeol's cock, the pads of his fingers gentle in their descent as they follow the curve of Chanyeol's cock as far as they can go. He's so, so gentle in the way he curls his thumb and index fingers just underneath the head, flickering his thumb up to collect the precome beading on the tip. It's barely a touch at all, but it sets Chanyeol on fire; hot tongues of pleasure licking up his spine. 

Kyungsoo's movements are slow, measured, lazy flicks of his wrists as Kyungsoo traces his Chanyeol's spine with his tongue.

"You're so hard," Kyungsoo murmurs, part amused, part in awe. "I bet you could come from this." 

Chanyeol thinks so too, but he doesn't want to come so fast, not like this. 

"I want you," Chanyeol whispers, eyes closed as the words stain his tongue. 

Kyungsoo lets go of him promptly, raises his hands until they're on Chanyeol's hips, turning him swiftly, effectively around. Chanyeol yelps, unprepared, embarrassed. The same second Kyungsoo has turned him around, Kyungsoo tugs him down and kisses him. It's intense, teeth, tongue; wet with spit that dribbles down Chanyeol's chin as Kyungsoo sucks on his tongue. Kyungsoo's hand, the one not curled around his neck, cups his hard cock through the silk and lace of the panties, squeezes once before letting go.

"What do you want?" Kyungsoo breathes, eyes intense as he pulls back, combs his fingers through Chanyeol's black hair. 

"Fuck me, please," Chanyeol whispers, fighting to stop himself from whining.

"Of course, baby," Kyungsoo says softly, kissing him again, chaste, warm. 

Chanyeol gets on the bed, legs trembling, cock hard, while Kyungsoo moves the full body mirror from the corner of the room to the foot of the bed. Chanyeol swallows loudly. 

"Hands and knees," Kyungsoo tells him, watching as Chanyeol, fumbling, gets into position, making a conscious decision to avoid the mirror. There's a soft chuckle, followed by a tut, coming from Kyungsoo. "Not like that baby, that wouldn't be any fun. In front of the mirror now, please." 

Chanyeol's entire body burns with embarrassment, arousal, as he moves himself sideways until he can see his flushed face and body in the mirror, can watch his hard cock leak against the cerise silk. Kyungsoo praises him as he climbs onto the bed, settling behind Chanyeol, his clothed crotch against Chanyeol's lace-covered back. Kyungsoo bends over him as far as his short, tiny body allows him to, to press a kiss against his spine, again. 

There's silence, a heartbeat, and then. 

"I want you to watch yourself, Chanyeol," Kyungsoo says, eyes dark, barely visible above Chanyeol's shoulder. 

"I-" Chanyeol begins, sobs. 

"Watch how beautiful you are, baby." 

Kyungsoo's mouth travels down Chanyeol's spine, then, his words ringing in Chanyeol's ears as he feels Kyungsoo's teeth, tongue, lips, nip, lick, kiss over the skin presented to him as he works himself further and further down. Chanyeol knows what's coming, cock throbs, body thrumming with arousal as he _knows_ but has to wait as Kyungsoo, knowingly, torturously, drags it out. Every brush of his lips, swipe of his tongue feels like small embers of ecstasy, small sparks of pleasure. 

Chanyeol's face is so hot, so red; eyes shiny as he looks back at his own expression, every little sound flustering him further. He wants to look away, doesn't want to look at himself when he's like this. It's embarrassing. 

A loud sob leaves Chanyeol's lips as Kyungsoo's tongue licks over the bow, the ribbon. Instead of pulling down the panties as Chanyeol had assumed he would, Kyungsoo's tongue runs down his crack over his panties, licking, licking until Chanyeol can feel his spit seep through the fabric. Insistently, Kyungsoo's tongue licks again and again over Chanyeol's clothed hole, has Chanyeol clenching at nothing.

Short fingers spread Chanyeol's cheeks, thumbs digging painfully into the flesh as Kyungsoo unceremoniously licks over Chanyeol's rim, immediately tracing it back down to curl his tongue against the hole, pressing against it as if he's trying to push through the ring of muscle. Chanyeol moans loudly; the sound vibrating through his entire body. Kyungsoo's lips press against the pucker, tongue pressed flat against it as Kyungsoo _sucks_. Sobbing, Chanyeol gives in, elbows collapsing, sending himself face first into the blankets. Muffled by them, Chanyeol dares to be louder, groans, moans, pleads, pants Kyungsoo's name into the cotton blanket as Kyungsoo eats him out.

In the short, few seconds Chanyeol isn't screaming, he can hear the soft, coaxing sounds Kyungsoo makes. They're breathy and considerably more quiet than Chanyeol's own noises, but they're there and they're turning Chanyeol on, nudging him closer to completion, to orgasm. Chanyeol needs to catch his breath, his lungs feel tight, his heart pounding so hard it makes his body tremble, too. 

Biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily through his nose in an attempt to calm himself down, Chanyeol realizes how loud Kyungsoo actually is when he eats him out. Not loud in the way Chanyeol is loud, with moans and sobs, but loud in his movements. The wet, filthy noises he makes as he buries his face between Chanyeol's cheeks, fucking him with his tongue. It feels as if he's shoving spit into Chanyeol with every flicker of his tongue. He's positively sloppy; Chanyeol can feel his saliva dribbling down his crack, over his perineum. 

When Kyungsoo pulls away suddenly, it feels like a tremendous loss to Chanyeol, who looks up so fast it makes his head spin. Trembling, he gets back up on his elbows, looks over his shoulder at Kyungsoo who sits back on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Chanyeol's stomach lurches as he's briefly able to see his chin, glittering in the light from the bedroom lamp, shiny with his own spit. 

"You're so loud," Kyungsoo praises, clearly satisfied, his eyes shining. He doesn't look away from Chanyeol when he digs the lube out from under a pillow, uncapping it. Chanyeol watches, eyes widening, as he squirts lube onto his hand, leaving the uncapped bottle somewhere on the bed. Even though he expects it, the cool, slippery slide of lube against him feels like a surprise. He shudders, both in arousal and because of its coolness, inhaling sharply through his nose. 

Kyungsoo watches him through the mirror as he pushes his middle finger into Chanyeol. It's a pressure, but it's not painful. Kyungsoo knows this too, and adds his index finger next to it, increasing the stretch a bit. 

Their surroundings are quiet, they are too, save for Chanyeol's breathy gasps, the slick sounds as Kyungsoo thrusts his fingers into him calmly, measured, not taking his eyes off Chanyeol. The stretch comes with his ring finger, a slight pain tinged with the pleasure that surges through him. His chest feels tight, his body feels tight as Kyungsoo fucks Chanyeol with his fingers, never faltering; calm and collected as Kyungsoo is wont to be. 

When Kyungsoo finally, _finally_ slides his lube-slick cock in between Chanyeol's cheeks, when he feels it enter him, the head first, holding him open, gaping as Kyungsoo feeds his cock to him, inch by inch until his small, narrow hips are pressed against Chanyeol's ass, Chanyeol feels like crying. They stay like that, completely still, for what feels like an eternity, with Kyungsoo breathing heavily through his nose, Chanyeol whining. 

Then, Kyungsoo drapes as much of himself over Chanyeol's back as he can muster with his short stature, and fucks him. 

Kyungsoo's hands presses at his shoulders until Chanyeol gives, ass sticking up, upper torso pressed against the blankets. A hand fists none too gently in his hair, paired with a soft whisper of: "Look at you, look how beautiful you are, and I'm the lucky one who gets to see you like this." 

Continuous whispers of praise - _beautiful_ , _a gift_ \- of love - _Chanyeol-ah, I love you, love you_ \- fills his ears as Kyungsoo fucks him, sharp hips bruising his ass, fingers tight onto his shoulders. And it's perfect; it's burning pleasure, it's fire and brimstone - it's paradise. 

Chanyeol's teeth clack from the great impact of Kyungsoo's hips, his knuckles white from how hard he's clutching at the carpet. And again, he looks at himself in the mirror. Chanyeol looks punch-drunk, thoroughly fucked. Lips swollen from the numerous times he has bitten down at them to calm himself down; eyes blown, pupils dark, a flush resting permanently high in his cheeks. 

And yes, Chanyeol thinks he's beautiful like this. The realization hits him like an earthquake, moans spill out from between pink lips as this is what Kyungsoo sees, this is what Kyungsoo _loves_. The rush of affection feels suffocating, his throat and chest tight with emotion. Like his lungs are set on oxygen, but all he's fed is _love_. Chanyeol would mind choking on love, falling over with Kyungsoo's praises etched permanently onto his skin as his throat closes; as he's unable to breathe. 

Kyungsoo's voice, rough, whispers promises of affection, of love against Chanyeol's skin as the thrusts of his hips get sloppier, the beat, rhythm is messed up as Kyungsoo builds himself, builds them closer to orgasm. 

Fat tears spill down Chanyeol cheeks as Kyungsoo pauses, meets Chanyeol's gaze in the mirror and whispers, a soft, gentle: "I love you." 

Immediately, he picks up the pace, his hand slipping into Chanyeol's panties to wrap tightly around his cock, jerking him off to a mismatched rhythm. 

And it's all too much, everything and nothing; love and pleasure flushes over him, surrounds him, washes out everything that isn't Kyungsoo and him. As Kyungsoo presses his thumb to the sensitive spot just under the head of Chanyeol's cock, rubbing small, small circles into the vein, thumbs off the sticky precome, everything stops.

"Chanyeol, I love you." 

Chanyeol comes like that, pleasure wrecking through his body, leaving him sobbing as his come soils his panties, Kyungsoo's fingers as he continues to help Chanyeol through his trembling, bone shattering orgasms. With his small, strong arms, Kyungsoo manages to hold him up as he fucks harder into him, grunts, and comes, sinking his teeth into the skin between Chanyeol's shoulder blades, shuddering against him as he spills, cock buried deep in Chanyeol's ass. 

They both collapse; Chanyeol onto the bed, and Kyungsoo onto Chanyeol. Tenderly, Kyungsoo kisses the bite marks he left on Chanyeol's back before he pulls out of him wetly. Chanyeol's entire body aches, tingles from the sweet pleasure of the orgasm, so he doesn't protest when Kyungsoo slips out of bed, pulling off his clothes as he vanishes out of sight for a couple of minutes, returning naked with a washcloth. 

As Kyungsoo cleans him, gets rid of the panties after promising to clean them, not throw them away, Chanyeol can only watch, wordlessly, with his heart in his throat as Kyungsoo takes care of him. Every touch is careful, every word soft against his skin as Kyungsoo makes sure he's completely free for come and lube before he tends to himself. He walks out again, returns wearing a clean pair of boxers, while holding out something in his hand, for Chanyeol. 

"I bought you this a while ago," Kyungsoo tells him, crawling into bed next to Chanyeol. "I did it after I noticed how you were looking at my lingerie supply, and I was wondering if it actually turned you on. Turns out I was right." 

Chanyeol flushes at Kyungsoo's cheeky grin, but lets Kyungsoo, oh so tenderly, pull the new pair of panties up his long legs, careful as he pulls it over his soft cock, his butt. This forest green pair of panties are mostly lace, not going as high up as Chanyeol's pair, but they look, and feel nice. 

Chanyeol feels beautiful. 

"You look beautiful," Kyungsoo tells him, as they both settle properly into bed, Kyungsoo's front against Chanyeol's side, lips brushing against his temple. Kyungsoo is so warm against his side, and the familiar scent of coffee, sweat and peppermint is relaxing. Chanyeol's hand finds Kyungsoo's and entwines their fingers, squeezing Kyungsoo's hand. 

"I love you, Chanyeol," Kyungsoo says softly, squeezing Chanyeol's hand, too. "Thank you for showing me your beauty. Thank you for trusting me with this." 

Another rush of affection overwhelms him, making his eyes burn, his body ache. And, with a wavering voice, full of emotion, throat constricted with love, Chanyeol speaks, too. 

"I love you, Kyungsoo.”

**Author's Note:**

> DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M HIDEOUS.


End file.
